


hikes & restless nights

by budd



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alexis Rose Being a Good Sister, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends Stevie Budd & David Rose, Canon Dialogue, Communication, Dramatic David Rose, Drinking, Episode: s03e12 Friends & Family, Explicit Language, First Kiss, Gay Panic Hiking, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Oblivious, Partners to Lovers, Slow Burn, Texting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28118478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/budd/pseuds/budd
Summary: An alternative universe in which the lights never flickered after Rose Apothecary's "soft" launch.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer & Alexis Rose, Patrick Brewer & Ray Butani, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & Alexis Rose & David Rose, Stevie Budd & David Rose
Comments: 34
Kudos: 83





	1. i promise

Patrick pulls back from the hug, David letting out a small whimper at the loss of contact. His eyes go wide, realizing the noise he emitted, but Patrick doesn't move his body, not even in the _slightest_ bit. Instead, he lets his eyes rake themselves up and down David starting at his shoes all the way to the top of his hair, stopping at his lips on their way down again. David smirks, knowing what comes next, except Patrick never inches forward. Instead, he snaps his head down, his hands interlocking out of instinct, tapping the back of his left hand using his other pointer finger. A few moments of silence later and he opens his lips to speak, his mouth hung agape for a moment before closing them again and returning to fiddling with his still laced fingers. David's body tenses up as he can practically feel the anxiety radiating off Patrick's body, flooding the air between them with an unspoken tension. He hates seeing his business partner—they were still just business partners, right, not secret lovers in disguise—apprehensive around him. Unsure of what to do this in situation, David grabs Patrick's hands in his own, swaying their arms gently. Patrick looks down to inspect David's gorgeous rings, the thick blocks of silver lining his perfectly tan skin shimmering in the moonlight peaking its way through the glass doors and windows of the Apothecary. 

He's never felt this way about another man before. Patrick has spent the last two weeks non-stop hiking in an attempt to concrete his racing thoughts about his possible feelings towards David, intoxicated with the way his lips always twist to the corner of his mouth when he smiles and the way he grabs onto the sleeves of his sweater to fidget with the hem when nervousness overtakes his body. Patrick could go on and on until seemingly the end of time with how he's been wrapped up in him from the moment he laid eyes on him at Ray's, but everything he wanted was right in front of him; _David_ was right in front of him, the simple touch of their hands atop one another enough to send racing bolts of electricity up his spine, every thought _not_ about David being shot out to outer space. 

Allowing his hands to fall back down to his side, David looks up at the ceiling for an instant to drag in a long, deep breath, one that causes Patrick's to stop right in the back of his throat. At the same time, they each take a step forward, their bodies centimetres away from the other. David wraps his arms around Patrick's waist in a way that makes him feel _safe_ , like he's the only thing in the world that matters to him. He removes one of his hands to cup Patrick's cheek, leaning forward to connect their lips in a warm embrace. The kiss is sultry, yet luscious, encapsulating everything Patrick expected kissing a man to envelope. David has fantasized about it, too, however, in his mind, it was more desperate, hungry if you will. David's plan was to drag it out for as long as possible so when they _did_ , it was everything they needed, but he couldn't hold himself back any longer. Seeing Patrick standing here with a soft look on his face—a look that David has never seen grace his body before—he knows kissing him _was_ everything they needed right now, even if it was less frantic than anticipated. 

David steps back, bowing his head as he clears his throat. "I should probably," he stops for a moment, noticing Patrick has walked behind the counter. "Go home." David's voice trails off quickly. All Patrick responds with is a nod, a nod appearing to be out of apprehension. He wastes no time on exiting their store, stopping once he's out of his view. _Did I misread his body language? What if I fucked things up with him? Is he going to leave the business, I can't do this without him. He_ definitely _hates me now, I would hate me if I was him, that's for sure._ David facepalms himself as if it'll knock all the negative thoughts racing through his mind at a million miles a minute straight onto the sidewalk, running away from them and leaving them behind him, pretending they never popped into his brain in the first place. Alternatively, his entire walk to the motel is spent cursing himself out. What he _doesn't_ know, is Patrick is having the same worries back inside. 

Leaning against the wall, Patrick's head hits the brick behind him without a second thought. He _really_ likes David, so it's no surprise he'd let his feelings get the best of him. Is it too soon to feel so strongly about him? Probably. Actually, the more he ponders on it, it is 100% too early considering how long—or short, for that matter—they've known one another. He sighs, crossing his arms, rubbing his bicep back and forth. 

***

Stevie  
  
**David:** Are you busy?  
  
**David:** I really need to talk to someone and you know that's not something I say frequently   
  
**Stevie:** You what? I think that's the first time you've ASKED me for a conversation in the years we've known each other  
  
**David:** Haha.  
  
**Stevie:** Shit, you're serious  
  
**David:** Why wouldn't I be serious?  
  
**Stevie:** I don't know, I just wasn't expecting THAT when I opened the text notification from you  
  
**David:** No idea how I'm supposed to take that  
  
**Stevie:** I'll be at the motel in ten  
  
**David:** And I'll hold you accountable  
  


"Patrick!" Ray exclaims, throwing his arms up in the air as he opens the door, being greeted by his presence. "Do you feel like staying for dinner? I'm making catfish!"

He shakes his head. "I'm actually hiking, so—" Patrick is interrupted by an obnoxiously loud voice belonging to none other than Ray, of course.

"But you haven't even told me about the opening yet! How did it go? How much did you sell? How are things with David?" Ray lets out a suggestive shimmy. _How the_ fuck _does he know I like him?! Does he even know, or am I jumping to conclusions?_ "I'm sorry I couldn't have been there, I had to do another family shoot, I wish I could've gone to celebrate your—what I'm assuming was—success."

Patrick waves a hand. "It's alright." He quickly runs off to his room to avoid any further conversation with his roommate, desperate to clear his head, or at least comprehend his thoughts a bit, maybe organize them a little, too. During the night is Patrick's favorite time to hike despite it being notoriously more dangerous than the daytime. He loathes in the adrenaline rush it gives him, the exact adrenaline rush he needs more than anything else right now.

***

Twelve minutes later, there's a knock at David and Alexis' room. "You're late," he yells before checking who's there, knowing it's Stevie. He slams the door behind her just as she steps foot into the motel. "But I am in dire need of a chat, so I welcome you with open arms." He face plants onto his bed, Stevie tentatively sitting down next to him.

"Stop being so dramatic, David!" Alexis yells from the bathroom, stomping out as she adjusts her comedically large hoop earrings.

David groans, sitting up and accidentally hitting Stevie's back with his knee in the process. She shoots him cut eye at the contact, but neither him or Alexis acknowledges it. "Did _you_ just have your business partner practically run away after you kissed him?! I didn't think your answer was _yes_ , so I'd can it if I were you for the safety of everyone within a ten mile radius."

Alexis and Stevie glance at one another, Stevie hanging her mouth wide open, happiness practically beaming out of her eyeballs while Alexis runs over, sitting next to her on the bed. She reaches over Stevie to smack David's arm with the back of her hand. "You did WHAT?!"

David ignores her, directing his attention towards Stevie instead. "Do you understand why I wanted to talk to you now?"

"Umm, hello! I'm right here!" Alexis rolls her eyes in annoyance and pretends to be offended, although she secretly is, not that she'll ever admit it aloud, however.

"Screaming in my face while I'm in a state of emotional distress on top of the fact that my business is potentially on the line of mass destruction is exactly why I _didn't_ come to you. Because you're here and I could use all the support I can get, though, I guess I'll let you stay," David says with a roll of his eyes. Alexis claps her hands, crossing her left leg over her right and straightening out her dress. Both girls wait for him to continue, an awkward stretch of stillness hovering over them through the impatience. "He hugged me and seemed... flustered after letting go, like the kind of flustered you get in the presence of someone you're crushing on. I took that as a sign to lean in, but he didn't let me get a word out of my mouth before vanishing behind the counter." At this point, tears are pricking at the corners of David's eyes, and he blinks them back the second he feels their occupancy. He's never let someone get under his skin in this way before. He's never allowed another person to tear him apart _this_ destructively prior to getting together, if he and Patrick ever will get together after this. They haven't even been on a date yet, so why is he sitting in a bed with his sister and his best friend surrounding him while he's on the verge of balling?

Unsure of how to respond, Alexis sets a hand on his shoulder, giving the soft fabric of his sweater cladding his skin slow and soothing back and forth strokes. David leans his head on her hand for a split second to tell her the gesture is comforting. She nods, continuing as Stevie begins to articulate what she's been dying to for metaphorical years. "David, I've _seen_ the way he looks at you. He wanted that. I know for a fact he wanted that, I have never been more sure of anything in our entire friendship. He invited you over last week, he's given you gifts. Even just today he learned how to wire a light bulb for you. Nobody does that for someone they're 'just business partners' with. Go talk to him."

Alexis grins at Stevie, removing her hand from David's shoulder to swat at him for twiddling with his rings _again_. Without thinking, David embraces her in a hug. He quickly removes himself from her body, realising what he had just done. "I'm sorry," He begins, wiping away a single tear that had rolled down his face with his thumb. "If anything, Stevie deserved that for her convincing speech." Stevie backs up on the bed, putting up an outstretched arm to stop him. David lets out a giggle, a smile spreading across his face out of pure admiration towards the the women in front of him. As much as it guts him to admit it, he knows he's lucky to have a sister and a best friend who support him throughout all of his breakdowns, _especially_ when they're romance induced.

"Does this mean you're going to talk to him?" Alexis asks, Stevie returning back to her original spot out of curiosity.

Sucking in a breath, he shakily exhales. "Yes," David pauses, shaking his head as if it'll rearrange his scattered brain. "I will." Stevie and Alexis give each other a high five before jumping off the bed in sync. Alexis flips her hair over her shoulder towards David before making her way back into the bathroom, eliciting a curl of his lips. Stevie pats him on the leg, giving him a thumbs up as she exits the room, leaving David alone to his thoughts once again.

***

Patrick  
  
**David:** I think we left off on a sour note earlier and I'd love to talk things out  
  
**David:** If you're free, obviously, there's no pressure  
  
**David:** Like, don't change your night for me  
  
**David:** Did I do something?  
  
**David:** I'm sorry  
  
**David:** I've been paranoid all night and you taking twenty minutes to respond is not helping  
  
**David:** That isn't a dig at you, by the way  
  
**David:** My words have a way of coming off harsher than I intend  
  
**David:** Okay, you're definitely busy  
  
**David:** Just delete these when you see them, it isn't important  
  
**David:** Unless you want to talk, but after this whole spam texting situation, I'm sure you want nothing to do with me anymore  
  
**David:** Do you even want to be apart of the business anymore?  
  
**David:** You know what, this is not the time for spiralling  
  
**David:** Goodnight, Patrick  
  


David forcefully turns off his phone, throwing it across the room without care. _It'll land on carpet_ , he thinks, _It's fine_. He spends the next hour trying to force himself to sleep, but no positions are working. He's attempted to fall asleep on his stomach, on his side, spread eagle, on his back, on his other side, with his head where his feet usually are. After what seems like centuries, he finally gives up, shoving his feet into whichever pair of shoes are closest to him. At this point, he doesn't give a shit, he just _needs_ alcohol in his system and that's what he'll get at The Wobbly Elm. His parents have possession of the car for the night, so he walks. He walks and he walks, floundering across the streets of Schitt's Creek, suffocating in Patrick. Their kiss plays on repeat in David's mind as if its broken record, thoughts of Patrick's lips on his intoxicating his mind at every opportunity they get.

"What can I get you?" asks the bartender when David _finally_ stumbles in, already drunk off Patrick.

He sits down on a stool, smacking his palms on the counter in front of him. "A bunch of polar bear shots. Just, as many as you can make." The bartender nods, taken aback a bit by the request, but she's seen worse, so she manages to shake it off virtually immediately.

Back at the start of the hiking trail where he began his journey, Patrick is overtaken with panic after checking his texts and seeing 14 missed messages from David. _Fuck,_ he mutters, reading over them several times until he musters up a response. To keep it short and to the point, he feels completely and utterly awful. He knows David's anxiety can get the best of him easily and he left him in solitary with his thoughts because he was busy hauling himself a mountain he's already climbed what could quite literally be hundreds of times at this point. Patrick had a feeling for the last half of his hike that he was missing something, like something was wrong. He couldn't place his finger on what that something was until now.

David  
  
**Patrick:** I'm so sorry, I was on a hike lacking even the tiniest sliver of cell service. That probably sounds parallel to an excuse, but I promise it's the truth. Anyway, I'd love to talk, there's definitely some things that need to be discussed. Call me when you get the chance 😊  
  
**Patrick:** P.S. I'm not leaving you  
  


Patrick shuts off his phone and sets it in the cup holder between the driver's and passenger's seats before driving off back towards Ray's. At the motel, however, Alexis picks up David's phone after hearing two consecutive iMessage notifications go off. She debates on what to do next, keeping mind of the fact that she doesn't know where the fuck David is and there's no way she can contact him given the fact that his phone is in her possession.

Exiting his car, a muffled _ping_ emits itself from the speaker of Patrick's phone, which he's now carrying in his hand.

David  
  
**David:** It's Alexis, David ran off and left his phone at the motel. I don't know where he is and obviously nobody can gather that information from him, but I just wanted to let you know your message didn't go unnoticed. I'll tell him as soon as I see him next  
  
**Patrick:** Is he okay?  
  
**David:** This isn't the first time this has happened, David running off without telling anyone. Actually, he told me, I just didn't respond. That's irrelevant, though. He ended up spending a few days on an Amish farm until Roland found him since he stole his truck to get there. He only came home because there was a bug on the dress or whatever it was he was wearing. God knows how long he would've stayed there if that ladybug didn't land on him   
  
**Patrick:** Thanks for letting me know, I guess  
  
**David:** Not a problem, button 😘  
  
**David:** I will be deleting these from his phone, though, he doesn't need to know we talked  
  


This is a first for Patrick, never has he made anyone flee their home post-kiss nor did he plan on having it happen again, although, the world works in mysterious ways, so who knew what the fuck would happen in the future when Patrick doesn't even know what the fuck was happening in his life during this very moment. He isn't sure how to react to this whole situation. Does he waltz around town in an attempt to look for him? Does he wait until he comes home, if he even does? Absolutely and downright confused, he decides to take a shower before what appeared was going to be a restless night of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest single chapter I've written, so I hope you enjoyed it! As per usual, kudos and comments are always appreciated. I love hearing from you guys <3 
> 
> For the record, the rest shouldn't contain this much texting for those of you who don't enjoy reading messages, but the pining will get worse, so hold on (;


	2. feeling lucky?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I got a lot of positive feedback on _there it is, beating away_ in which I wrote journal entries from David's perspective, I figured I'd switch it up a little bit and do one from Patrick's perspective! I loved writing it, too, so why not bring it back? Also, this is much shorter than the last chapter, but I'll get the length back up again, this just felt like a natural place to end this.

"I hope this'll do for now," The bartender sets down ten of the requested polar bear shots in front of David. "I figured I'd start you out with double digits and see where the night takes you." He nods, thanking her before downing two at once. She grabs a wet glass from underneath the bar and begins drying off the inside with the towel that was slashed across her shoulder seconds prior. David feels the air beside him weigh down, an unknown figure taking seat atop of the stool parallel to him. He looks up through his lashes to be met with an undeniably gorgeous person. Their bangs cover their forehead in a way that framed their face perfectly. Moving down, the two front strands of their strawberry blonde locks are braided with mismatched butterfly clips scattered throughout, ends lightly grazing a trench coat draped atop a plain white short-sleeved crop top, the aforementioned jacket almost seamlessly matching the color of their mustard-corduroy Doc Martens. Their boots have tiny rainbows sitting in a sky full of clouds doodled on them with Sharpie across the sides, the word _PRIDE_ scribbled in all capital letters across the toes, _PRI_ on the left foot and _DE_ on the right. One thought is racing through David's head, that being _why the_ fuck _would you ruin a perfect pair of $150 shoes_? He assesses for a moment, blinking at them with wide eyes. 

Once they're sure he's staring at them, they initiate a conversation. "Like what you see?" They're smirking in an attempt to hold back a smile. David immediately catches onto their sarcasm, letting out the smallest chuckle he can muster up. His mind has already rushed back to Patrick after being snapped out of the trance he was sucked into. "I'm Karissa." 

Without a second thought, David responds in the only way he can: with Patrick. "I actually," he clears his throat, nervous to continue regardless of the fact that he's never met the person sitting next to him—well, across from him, now that they've turned on their stools to face each other—and will most likely never lay eyes on them again for the remainder of his time on Earth. "I came here to get away from someone, but I have no intentions on going home with someone, either. I'm sure it doesn't look like that considering I told the bartender to give me _as many polar bear shots as she could_. It's the truth, though." David picks up another shot glass, tilting his head back and opening his throat, allowing it to go down in a single swig. Karissa raises an eyebrow as to ask if they can indulge in one of his drinks. David complies, handing them a glass while picking up an extra for himself. 

"You're going to be _gone_ in the next five seconds if you don't stop chugging," David shrugs, clinking their glasses together, the two guzzling down the liquid as if it's in their nature. "I never got your name and I'd like to before you're stumbling into the bathroom, vomiting over every toilet." 

David lets his glass hit the counter with more force than he intended, but he couldn't care less about the strength of which he was handling his freshly devoured alcohol. "David," Karissa smiles, glad to finally put a name to the face they've been indulging with for the past handful of minutes, even if it only _has_ been a handful of minutes. "You know, with how easily you took that down, I wouldn't be surprised if you also kissed your business partner." Karissa laughs, an infectious laugh that forces a grin to spread quickly across David's face. 

They sigh, their expression softening before continuing. "Not quite," David chortles in a _genuine_ expression of happiness. "I came here after getting rejected by best friend. Turns out it's a classic case of closeted-lesbian-falls-for-their-straight-companion-they've-known-since-preschool-which-seemingly-ruins-their-friendship-for-the-foreseeable-future."

Groaning, David crosses his arms in front of him on the bar counter top. David sucks in a breath before continuing, afraid of where his brain will take him. He comes to the conclusion that they're nice enough and it wouldn't hurt to verbalize what's been weighing him down for the last few weeks after a silent few moments of thinking. Karissa sets their elbow down and cups their cheek with their hand to show interest in David and the story he's about to tell. "I have been rejected more times than I can count, used for my body on thousands of instances, although nothing hurts as much as the thought of losing my co-owner. Their levels of pain aren't even comparable. This is a new feeling for me, being intoxicated with a person since virtually the moment we first laid eyes on each other. I didn't want to admit it, but I've always had a ping in my gut that he was someone I was interested in getting to know better... outside of work." 

Karissa reaches over to rub small circles on the back of his hand. Based on the tears flowing down in his face for the third occurrence tonight, they know it was difficult for him to confess all of that aloud for seemingly the only time. He briefly talked to Stevie and Alexis, sure, but not with such introspection. David's face contorts into a broad smile, thankful to have someone who's willing to listen. He's sure if he were to extended the conversation with Alexis and Stevie earlier, they would've continued their supportive and accepting ways, but it always feels safer to tell someone you don't trust with your life. "Well, I say we finish up the rest of these shots, order more if we're feeling lucky, and indulge in the romantic pains of one another for awhile longer."

"I can get behind that."

***

Nearly five hours later of tossing and turning, Patrick rubs his eyes in frustration, giving his forehead an obligatory smack. The gesture helps him remember David journaling in the store one morning, the first—and only—morning he arrived before him. With this memory popping into his head, he decides to give journalling a shot. His mother gave him an empty leather bound book for his birthday two years ago. He has yet to write in it, however, he's kept it all this time in hopes a moment where come along where he'd be able to implement the gift. Before opening the journal, he grabs his favorite pen from his nightstand (yes, he has a favorite pen, and yes, it keeps safe in his nightstand). Afterward, Patrick writes the date in the top left corner of the first page. He brings his legs up to his chest to create a flat surface to write on, too distraught to drag himself out of bed to the nearest table and too afraid he'll disturb Ray's sleep.

_I didn't expect to magically live the life I was missing back home this soon after practically fleeing, but there's no reason why I should feel worse. Okay, maybe I don't feel worse because it led me to meeting David. At the same time, I ran to Schitt's Creek in an attempt to get away from romantic kerfuffles, not throw myself right back into one. I don't have an excuse for the way I reacted to the meeting of our lips besides fear. I was scared, and I still am scared. It wasn't until recently, in the last four months, where I pieced together my sexuality, accepting the fact that I'm gay. David kissing me was the first time I ever got to embrace it and I fucked it up. I fucked it up because after nearly thirty years of hiding in the shell of a person I'm not, I'm in a place where I can be unapologetically me. I thought it would be easier. It isn't. It's somehow harder. Coming to terms with yourself is only half the battle, understanding your feelings is the other._

_When I first saw him, I was entranced by his style, his light undertones of femininity, his perfect skin that clearly belonged on the body of someone who paid attention—perhaps a little too much—to their appearance. It was a combination I never saw in another man before. As blissful as it was to meet someone who captivated me in the way David did, it was equal parts horrifying, if not_ more _horrifying. All of these sensations are brand new, so I guess when I was in a situation where I didn't make the first move it overwhelmed me. Did I enjoy it? Absolutely, my reaction just didn't happen to encapsulate that excitement, inevitably scaring David off. When you think about it, I am the only one at fault of damaging my friendship with him, even if he initiated the kiss and not me._

Patrick's hand starts cramping up at the speed in which he was writing. He lets the pen fall out of his fingers into the book's spine, closing it abruptly. He tosses it off the edge of his bed and across the room, grabbing the pillow behind his back and placing it over his face after lying down, putting his hands over his ears to engulf himself in a dark silence. 


	3. while you were thinking, i was drinking

"Okay, okay, okay," David finished the initial platter of polar bear shots—after granting a handful to Karissa, of course—and now they've moved onto Zhampange. Each of them are two glasses in, losing themselves more and more every moment they continue to indulge in the beverage. "Who is the _worst_ person you've been with. I'm talking someone who was so despicable the prospect of them makes you want to projectile vomit across the room."

Karissa snorts, doing their best to stop themself from spitting out the alcoholic refreshment grazing their tongue and flooding their senses. "It's funny you just assumed I've been with someone before." David jaw hangs agape, nearly dropping his flute onto the ground and shattering it into thousands of minuscule pieces. He's only stopped by Karissa's hand grazing across his own. The touch sends waves of intoxicating shivers shooting up his spine and up the top of his head, but only because he imagines, just for a second, it's Patrick. 

"How have you never been with someone?" David asks sincerely, taking another swig of the drink he's still holding. "I'm not your... crowd, if you will, but you have _style_ —even if it does include vandalizing a pair of boots I would kill to have, in white, though, of course—and that isn't a compliment I graze other people with often."

Their hands begin waving in the air, gesturing vigorously at David's torso. "You're wearing a $3,000 Givenchy sweater, and you can't afford to drop less than $200 on a pair of Doc Martens, a shoe that babies are born with straight out of the womb?" He can't help letting out a less than appealing huff of the air around him, quickly dropping his head, a frown taking over his facial physique.

"I—" He coughs, Karissa's expression softening at the noticeable change in his mood. "When I came here, to Schitt's Creek, it wasn't voluntarily. My mother was an actress, you may know her from _Sunrise Bay_ , and my father owned the Rose Video empire. Our financial guy stole all of our money and fled to some island. The Bahamas, maybe? Is that even an island? I don't know, but either way, we lost everything, except for the town. See, this town was purchased by my father for me as a joke because of the name. When we had money, Docs weren't exactly in style, so I never got around to purchasing a pair."

Frowning, Karissa lets their hands fall to David's forearm, caressing the clothed skin in circles to try and alleviate the obvious tenseness overtaking his senses. "That must've been hard, I cant imagine going through that." They grab one of the empty shot glasses still taking up the counter top in front of them and fills it with the rest of the Zhampange in their flute. Karissa hands the newly filled vile to David who immediately takes the fluid. 

"It _was_ hard," He begins, sliding the glass back over to where it was sitting previously. "And lonely. And lacking hope. Then I leased the general store and everything changed." 

"Wait, you own the Apothecary?!" Karissa's mouth opens wide, shocked at the revelation. David nods, a smile grazing at the corners of his lips. "I was there earlier!" 

"As was I," They laugh in sync, the kind of laugh you share with a friend you've known since Kindergarten. "It changed for the better, though. I get to grace this town with the presence of my aesthetic knowledge while doing it with someone... amazing." David pauses before the final word, choosing how he wants to describe Patrick.

Karissa notices David's lips twirling around in an attempt to hide a smirk, a grin forming at the sight. "Is that the guy from earlier? The one who you kissed?" David sighs, shaking his head to confirm. "Go talk to him." They say straightforwardly, blinking at David when he brings his gaze up to theirs.

"I already tried. He didn't respond to any of my texts, so I left my phone at the motel out of anger." Overwhelmed by negative thoughts, he slides the ring on his pointer finger off and places it back on aggressively in quick succession in an attempt to distract himself. 

Karissa rubs tiny circles into his back wanting nothing more than to comfort the man sitting next to him. "At the motel? I thought you lived here." They ask innocently.

Redirecting his eyes, David focuses on a bottle of beer behind the bar, not wanting to look at them directly for this part. "I do live here, at the motel." 

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with having a roof over your head no matter which type of building that roof is atop," Karissa gives David a reassuring smile, one that he notices out of the corner of his vision, snapping out of the beer bottle trance he was in prior. "Speaking of phones—not to backtrack—why don't you put your number in mine and we can catch up later? I'll settle our tabs."

David puts up his ringed hand to stop them. "You don't have to pay for my drinks."

"I want to. You kept me company tonight and it's the least I could do in return." They pull their phone out of one of the grass colored pockets lining their thighs, setting it in front of David before wavering over the bartender.

***

Alexis practically leaps off her bed, running over to the door after hearing David's voice yell from the other side. He prefers to vocalize his presence instead of knocking and always has liked it better this way. "You're here!" David scrunches his eyebrows, walking into their shared room. He's confused at his sister's newfound obsession with him, but he's also trying to soothe the inevitable headache that'll hit him any second now by moving his face in just the right position. Alexis lifts his phone up between her thumb and middle fingers by the corner, dangling it tentatively in front of his face. "Patrick texted you." She informs him nonchalantly, debatably _too_ nonchalantly considering the response he had gotten when arriving. He snatches the phone from her grasp, wasting no time on flopping onto his bed, breaking his strict no shoes rule, although he couldn't care less, he just wants to open his messages app and see what Patrick's sent him, turning the brightness down first, of course.

Patrick  
  
**Patrick:** I'm so sorry, I was on a hike lacking even the tiniest sliver of cell service. That probably sounds like an excuse, but I promise it's the truth. Anyway, I'd love to talk, there's definitely some things that need to be discussed. Call me when you get the chance 😊  
  
**Patrick:** P.S. I'm not leaving you  
  
**David:** Well, it's nice to have confirmation you're staying. I'm assuming you don't want me to call now considering it's 1:37 in the morning and something tells me you're an early sleeper, but I appreciate you letting me know where you were, even if it was late  
  


Patrick's body shoots up at the ringing of a text notification, a ripple of relief washing over him succeeding the observation that it's from David, the person he's been waiting to hear from for what seems like centuries now.

David  
  
**Patrick:** I normally am an early sleeper, just not tonight  
  
**David:** Why is that?  
  
**Patrick:** Thinking  
  
**David:** While you've been thinking I've been drinking, so I should get some rest. It was nice to chat for a second, though <3  
  
**Patrick:** Wouldn't want you to be hungover tomorrow  
  
**Patrick:** Goodnight, David  
  


David smiles at the screen. Pure happiness radiates from every crevasse of his body, that is, until he realizes he added a _< 3_ to the end of his message. _What the_ fuck _were you thinking, David?!_


	4. roles reversed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a minute since I've updated this, but I got a burst of energy at 4:44 in the morning to continue, so here we are. I hope you enjoy this part <3

Patrick can't stop grinning. Occasionally his face morphs into a smirk just for a split second before returning to a state of beaming. It is mind-boggling how quickly he's able to go from pitiful guy in his bedroom, beating himself up over a _guy_ to looking like Cheshire Cat on Christmas morning with a simple two text exchange, however, he doesn't have time to focus on that right now; one thing is consuming all of the space in his brain, pulsing at the front of his skull unrelentingly: the emoticon heart David added to the end of his second paragraph. 

He doesn't want to admit it, but he had secretly hoped all night David was thinking about him, too. Sure, he hadn't explicitly said _I miss you_ , although, in order to miss someone—a sentiment Patrick implied by the words _it was nice to chat for a second_ —isn't it a requirement they cross your mind at least once or twice? How else are you supposed to miss them if you haven't been reminiscing? He's been staring at his phone for a beat longer than necessary to take in the sight of David's aforementioned text, still smiling a fond smile, one with his lips pressed together, a slight upraise in each corner. His cheeks extenuated the smile, bulbous and tinted with a soft salmon wash. 

A few moments later, he's jarred out of his trance by none other than Ray. "Knock, knock!" He barges in. Patrick has told him on several different occasions _saying_ knock, knock _is not the same thing as actually knocking_ and he's afraid he'll have to a hundred and five more times for Ray to even consider taking the note as it clearly hasn't been applied yet. "I thought I heard you making noise, are you interested in a game of Yahtzee?!" He exclaims, practically yelling in Patrick's ear even though he's only on the other side of the room.

"Maybe if it wasn't nearly two in the morning I'd assess the offer deeper, but it _is_ , so it's a pass from me." Patrick sets his phone on his nightstand, lying down on his cheek in an attempt to convey he's finished with their conversation.

Ray rolls his eyes, leaning up against the door frame before placing his hands on his hips. "The time doesn't matter, Pat," His face goes stiff at the mention of _Pat_. On the list of things Patrick Brewer has asked Ray Butani not to do the most times, calling him _Pat_ held the top position. "In fact, I already have it set up!"

Patrick sighs, pulling the covers up over his head. "I said no once, I'm not saying it again." The response makes him come across as more of an asshole than he prefers, but it was effective in getting Ray to leave him the _fuck_ alone, so it's worth it in the end. 

Working with Ray and living with Ray are on two different playing fields. Patrick narrowly took up his housing offer under the impression he'd only be staying in Schitt's Creek for a couple weeks at most. Plus, it was the cheapest option to get a roof over his head and after fleeing his hometown, the more inexpensive, the better. After meeting David Rose and investing in his business, he was almost positive he'd be taking residence in this previously-godforsaken-now-quaint-and-charming-town for an unforeseeable, but larger length of time. Earlier all thoughts of potentially lingering here had been thrown out the window and run over by a herd of elephants. Now, there's a glimmer of hope—only for a split moment, but it still shone—and the quiet sheen is enough to put Patrick to sleep with ease, a luxury he couldn't afford just a half an hour prior. 

***

Alexis corrals herself over David who has his head sitting his hands, scratching furiously at his face. "How'd things go with Patrick?" She enunciates the second syllable of his name, dragging out the last sound for a moment before having a pillow thrown square at her head by none other than her brother, of course.

"How do you _think_ things went?!" It wasn't David's intention to lash out on Alexis, but in moments of panic, he often resorts to less than kind retorts. He could also blame the alcohol in this situation, although his tolerance is so high at this point in his life that he's still in a state to create coherent thoughts.

She makes her way back over to her bed and leans on the headboard behind her after deciding this is a conversation best held from afar. "By the way you're smacking the back of your head against your bed frame, I'm going to imply badly."

David nods, stopping all self destructive movements. He's never felt so... passionate about someone before. In fact, he's never had _this_ many positive attributes to point out about another person prior to Patrick. He is respectful and unnecessarily generous (although, David always appreciates it at) at times. He _cares_ about Patrick and the nice person that he is. "I think I fucked up," He blurts out without a second thought, Alexis immediately raising her eyebrows and letting her jaw unclench itself. She waves her hand for him to elaborate. "I sent him a heart, but now just any heart; the fucking emoticon heart, like the one you type out with the less than sign and number three." 

Alexis furrows her eyebrows in confusion. "What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal?" David mocks, Alexis dropping her mouth open and groaning at the impression. "I basically told him _I think you're cute and I like you a lot_. It's an unspoken language, a keyboard-created heart pretty much confirms you have a crush on someone without directly saying _I have a crush on you_."

"I think you made that up," Alexis is even further taken aback now, if it's even possible. "But you _do_ have a crush on him, so what's the big deal?" 

This time David is the one groaning, taking in a deep breath and exhaling afterward. "I wasn't ready to tell him yet." He holds his hand inside his sweater, thumb grazing over the hem to fiddle with it lightly.

Alexis sits up, setting down her phone on the nightstand next to her as she'd been holding onto for the previous portion of their little chat. "Pretty sure you told him you have feelings when you kissed him." She smirks, David still sulking, not amused with her because she was right; Patrick _has_ to know or else he's completely and utterly oblivious to all human emotions.

"Go drown in a pool of SPAM, please." 


	5. what do you do when you're drowning?

The next morning is expectedly difficult for David. Seeing as it took him until four in the morning to get a single wink of sleep and Alexis was sauntering around their room two hours later for God knows what reason, to say he's tired would be an understatement. He's been worse after a night of drinking to forget someone in the past, but that didn't mean he wasn't feeling _bad;_ he'd be lying if he said he wasn't. David can't pinpoint why. As far as he is concerned, Patrick was more than okay. His freak out the night prior was out of dread this would end as it had thousands of times before, not because he's apprehensive Patrick's overwhelmed by the prospect of a dumbass heart. David knows deep down in his gut Patrick had the same mindset as Alexis; it's stupid, _he's_ stupid. 

Pulling out his phone to reanalyze their messages, David realizes he never responded to Patrick's goodnight text. _Fuck_ , he mutters to himself. _Just another mistake! Add it to the list_. David kicks himself for ignoring him, wishing he took two seconds to get back to him before losing his shit on his sister. 

"What's wrong?" Alexis looks up at him from the door frame, standing between their room and their parents'. David shoots her a glance to tell him how the hell she knew something was wrong, one Alexis was all too familiar with considering how nonverbal he was as a child. "You aren't exactly a quiet whisperer, if you're allowed to call _that_ a whisper." She gestures with her arms in the direction of David's bed, limping her wrist afterward. 

David lets out a small whine, "I think you've heard enough from me," His expression falters, face softening in the process. Having Alexis around to support him is wonderful seeing as they've really connected since their move to Schitt's Creek in a way neither of them thought was possible—or at least David didn't think was possible—however, he doesn't want to annoy her away. He cares about her, he's _always_ cared about her, it wasn't until recently he discerned it reciprocated, though. David doesn't want to lose their newfound association over some... _guy_ , even if the guy is a person he holds great affection towards. Alexis makes her way over to his bed, sitting on the edge as she's done thousands of times since their arrival in this town. "It's probably best if you leave me alone."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong." She is persistent, poking him with her fingertip. David would normally be annoyed although, in an odd sense, he appreciates it, being reassured that his feelings matter. Sure, it's just his sister, but David doesn't bother with who he feels it from and focuses on the fact that he even feels it at all. 

David inhales sharply, closing his eyes and keeping them closed for as long as his mouth is open. "I didn't text Patrick back last night." Alexis lunges his neck forward, her eyes practically bulging out of her head. She waits for David to continue except he never opens his mouth again. 

"That's it?" David nods. "Send him one now." She retorts in a duh tone, David leaning his head back to face to white abyss above him for a second before letting it fall down to the phone still sitting in his hand. _How the fuck did I not think of that?_

When David is defeated by anxiety, it leads to all logical levels of thinking be discarded into the Atlantic Ocean. The simplest of ideas, the most self-explanatory explanations for his seemingly life ending problems are out of reach to a point where they aren't even visible on David's horizon. His lack of sleep hasn't killed him yet despite the fact there's always a shake in the back of his mind that it would, that one day he won't wake up with the same weight on his chest he feels every morning and instead, he wouldn't wake up at all. Stirring himself awake at 10 AM each day should be something he's grateful for. Thanking the fact that he _didn't_ pass away should give him a reason to want help, to have more days to experience. He didn't have the best professional involvements with therapists or any other mental health professionals Adelina had gotten him to see back in New York City. A few rotten exposures shouldn't spoil the prospect for him, except they did.

 _David? David?! DAVID!_ Alexis was virtually screaming in his face on the verge of begging him to jolt out of his conceptualisations. "What?" 

"You're spacing out again." She states blankly. This isn't a rare occurrence. In fact, David was often caught. Losing himself in an object across the way is one of the first signs he's overthinking. 

Clearing his throat, David unlocks his cell to be met with his messages with Patrick. 

**David:** Good morning, Patrick. Sorry for not getting back to you last night, it wasn't my best moment  
  


***

It doesn't take Patrick long to respond. In fact, it takes him less than a minute to get back to David. He told himself if David were to text him again, he'd wait at _least_ a few minutes to conjure up a reply, but he couldn't handle stalling any longer. He misses David. Their dynamic is altered and it doesn't feel right. Patrick wants to change that, so he decided jumping back into conversation is his best bet at achieving normalcy again. Was it just the impatience talking? Absolutely, but he listened to his impulses nonetheless, unaware of what else to do in this situation.

**Patrick:** What do you mean it wasn't your best moment?  
  


Patrick knows David doesn't like being interrogated, although, he can't think of any other way to dig deep into his inner core without questions. You know what they say, you never know unless you ask, and Patrick won't avoid asking no matter how tempting it is.

**David:** Overthinking  
  
**David:** I do it a lot, more than I feel like admitting right now  
  
**Patrick:** I've done my fair share of overthinking myself  
  
**David:** You have?  
  
**Patrick:** It happens to the best of us  
  
**David:** Not as bad as me though, I can promise you that much  
  
**Patrick:** I'm not sure how to take that  
  
**David:** You don't need to take it right now, Patrick.  
  


As much as he wants to continue talking to David, a line had been crossed. Who's end it was on is to be determined—possibly both? Patrick is just happy David opened up, even if it was only for a split second and quickly shut it down. It feels good to know David trusts him enough with his thoughts.

***

David wants to keep talking to Patrick, he truly does, but the topic of overthinking doesn't feel justified over text, so he stops. He ends yet _another_ conversation because he's scared. _God, David, you're such a pussy!_

He trusts Patrick and maybe now isn't the time to put his faith in him, but David knows somewhere in his body that Patrick would've comforted him and protected him from his own self, that part just wasn't strong enough for David's liking and he wouldn't open up wholly until his entire body was 100% positive Patrick would comfort and protect him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started a Schitt's Creek prompt challenge! The theme is new beginnings and you can find the information [here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/FS2021) for anyone who may be interested in joining. Sign-up and get those prompts in by January 8, 2021 at 11:00AM EST to participate! 
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr](https://twysands.tumblr.com) as well, come say hello if you'd like <3


	6. close calls

Is it dangerous to close your business the day after it opened? Of course, but it's a Saturday and even though they planned on being closed on Sundays, maybe they could change it to Saturday just for this one occasion. Or, they could open this Sunday and be closed the next, reverting back to their original plan because, let's be honest, nobody is going to notice.

Nobody except David and Patrick, that is.

Alexis, too, she'll more likely than not also realise, but only because she's Alexis Rose and God forbid anything gets past her.

Oh, eventually Stevie as well.

Patrick was been fine to cover. In fact, he was going to text David and ask if he wanted him to, but the double-texting fear stopped him. The fear of coming off even _stronger_ than he worries he already has by sending two consecutive messages. 

He could gone in by himself without his consent, keyword being _could_.

It doesn't feel right. He has a set of keys to the building, sure, but it was David's store first. They were coworkers now. He owned it, too, so why does it feel wrong? 

It feels wrong because Patrick cares about David and betraying his trust is the last thing he wants to do while their (purely platonic) relationship is in shambles. Losing David is the last thing Patrick wants, especially when he's starting to open up to him in a way he hasn't before. 

What else could Patrick have done?

He could've asked him _after_ David texted him, except that also felt wrong.

He just exposed a new part of himself. What was he supposed to do, bring up his store when he was clearly in distress? That's just cruel.

With that, Patrick spends his day alone, sauntering around Schitt's Creek with nowhere to be and everywhere to be, one thing on his mind: David. His thoughts are clouded with _him_. It's impossible for him to think of anyone or anything else.

<center>***</center>

David starts his day at Café Tropical and quickly regrets his order of the banana bonanza smoothie, or should he say rotten garbage garbanzo because it tasted like _shit_. He doesn't even know what garbanzo means, it flows with the alliteration, tough, so he allows his brain to run free with it. 

After the café, he makes he's way over to town hall. Why? He doesn't fucking know, he just his feet carry himself there. David enters during a Jazzagal rehearsal and is corralled into an _afternoon shindig_ with his mother along with a bunch of other women who's names he doesn't know outside of Jocelyn and Twyla. 

Talking to his mother is... draining to say the least, and he's now in dire need of a nap.

David sinks back to the motel, shoulders relaxed and back hunched in the process. Alexis is at work with Ted and his parents were... somewhere, he doesn't know given that her mother's rehearsal has ended, meaning she isn't at Town Hall any longer. And his dad? Well, he barely knows how to turn on his phone, but even if he could, notifying his son of his whereabouts wouldn't be his top priority. In fact, David would be shocked of it was even _a_ priority.

Once his head slams against the motel pillow, it takes him a few minutes of tossing and turning to find that perfect angle of fluffiness, the usual stiff, hard-as-a-rock familiarity gone, even if it's only for a minute before getting lost again in the sea of sticks and stones, but alas, he eventually knocks out for an hour, enjoying the peace and quiet of having the motel room all to himself.

Normally, David is horrified of loneliness.

The prospect of being on his own is terrifying to say the least... except for today.

He absolutely fucking loves times like these where he has a few empty moments by himself to carry himself away from the real-world into his own little fantasy dreamland instead. 

It's pure bliss, that is, until Stevie barges in. "I went by your store," A look of confusion contorts David's lips. He also thread his brows together, rubbing his eyes out of annoyance. "It's closed." She says plainly, standing as stiff as a board awaiting his response. 

"O-okay?" David's lips purse a bit, cheeks caving in at the movement. "I mean, clearly I'm not in a state to be interacting with people and I guess Patrick lied when he said he wasn't leaving me." He fiddles with the hem of his bed sheet while sliding down, David's skull thunking against the headboard in the place where it meets his mattress. 

Stevie sits down, a groan eliciting itself from David's lips. "I also saw Patrick," Suddenly, his eyes light up with a certain glimmer Stevie has never seen on David Rose's face."He told me—"

David cuts her off, worried for whats to come. "I don't want to hear it if it's bad."

"It isn't," Stevie reassures him by giving his right bicep a couple pats and, even though he has no reason to believe her, he also has no reason _not_ to believe her, so he gives her the go ahead nod to continue. "He told me he wanted to make you feel comfortable and if you weren't comfortable going in, he wouldn't." David lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. 

He tucks a shy smile into the corner of his lips but, of course, it doesn't got unnoticed by Stevie. "I really like him." David blurts out, immediately shoving his hand over his mouth. He's already admitted it to Alexis, but this time it feels different in the best way possible, so favourable it's surreal. 

He's known since the first time he laid eyes on Patrick. Being around his sister, Stevie, kissing him. It all solidified the fact that he likes Patrick Brewer in an all your friends point and laugh while singing _K-I-S-S-I-N-G_ at the two of you sitting next to each other on the alphabet rug in third grade kind of way. 

"It feels wonderful to hear you say that." She smirks, scooting up the bed close enough to where she can wrap his arms around David's shoulders, which she does. 

"What do you mean?" His eyes narrow, shaking his head side to side in the process.

Stevie rolls her eyes. "I mean, it's been obvious since the day we shared a motel floor joint and you referred to him as _some guy who called your business a failure_." David chuckles a bit, looking down at his hands to study his rings. 

"I guess so," The smile hasn't left his face for what seems like an eternity. "Yeah, you—you're right." Stevie readjusts herself yet again before interrogating him further. 

"What is it? You know, about him?"

David happily sighs, pinpointing he and Alexis' television with his eyes. "He's... nice. He's very nice and I care about him a lot. I respect him, too, and that's not something I've ever said about someone before, although I've been thinking about it nonstop since last night in relation to him." 

"You're in deep, David Rose. You're in shit deep."

He reverts his gaze back to the girl sitting in front of him. "Yeah, I am."


	7. man up and grow a pair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short update, yes, but a long overdue one nonetheless.

While closing Rose Apothecary for the day, Patrick can't stop thinking about how big of a town hit David is. Every single customer that walked through their doors today outside of Roland had asked him where he was.

 _I'll never have a chance with him_ , he thinks, sighing as he rearranges the lip balms next to the register he's standing behind out of habit after seeing David line up and re-line up their products hundreds of times. _He's too popular for me._

There's a knock at the front of the building which doesn't allowing him the chance to self-deprecate any further. His head snaps up from the counter top to be met with a seemingly urgent Stevie holding a bottle of red wine she purchased earlier that week from the Apothecary, or more so stole as compensation for "helping" set up. He furrows his brows, making his way over to the door to open it for her. "Can I help you with something?" The question comes out harsher than he intends, but it's too late to take it back. 

"Someone's in a mood," Stevie groans, setting out two chairs in front of the scarf display. "Sit." She commands, pointing at the seat pulled up next to her. Patrick reluctantly replies, crossing his arms over his chest she pulls out two glasses. _Where the_ fuck _did those come from_? Before he has time to spiral over their appearance out of what Patrick is convinced is thin air, a drink is being shoved into his hand. It's clear she's already had a few sips of alcohol prior to entering, but he decides against bringing it up. 

Patrick puts lets his lips meet the edge of the glass, taking in the delectable liquid. He's never sampled their wine as he leads all testing of products to David, however, he's thoroughly impressed. "You never answered my question," Stevie's face contorts into a confused expression, narrowing her eyes and shrugging her shoulders to tell him she has no _fucking_ idea what he's referencing. "Why are you here?"

She leaps off her chair to stand in front of Patrick. "To tell you to ask out David." Her face is cold as stone, no emotions readable. 

"I can't do that." Patrick sighs, tapping his finger absentmindedly on the armrests of his seat. 

Stevie sits back down, scooting closer to him. "Yes, you can. All you have to say is _David, I think you're rad and I'd like to grab a drink with you sometime_." 

He purses his lips while cocking his head to the side in sync. "I don't think he'll appreciate the usage of _rad_." He states simply, engaging in another sip of the wine grazing the grasp of his left hand. 

"C'mon!" She smacks Patrick's bicep using the back of her palm, a little _too_ much force behind the meant to be friendly gesture. "I talked to him earlier," The mention of Stevie directly interacting with him causes Patrick's body to perk up unprovoked. "And he said he cares about you. I believe _he's very nice and I care about him a lot_ are the exact words. Something about respect also came up, too." 

Patrick's haphazard attempt to hide his rapidly growing smile goes south almost instantaneously. "I also care about him." He redirects his gaze towards the ceiling for a moment, thinking about all the generous acts he's directed towards him. He's never filled out corporation papers or wired a _lightbulb_ for anyone else before. 

Stevie removes her hand from Patrick, allowing it to fall back into her lap. "If you truly do care about him, you'll ask him on a date. I know David better than you do, even if you don't want to admit it, and he's going to keep beating himself up over his feelings unless you make a move." 

"I don't want him to hurt himself waiting for me to come around." Patrick's voice is small and vulnerable. Stevie's never seen him so... worked up before, but she doesn't regret her choice to come here. 

Once again, Stevie stands up, snatching his glass and making her way back to where she entered. "Text him, Patrick." And with that, she saunters out, leaving Patrick exposed and free of alcohol. 


End file.
